Barfly: Being the change that was needed

Jeff Burkhart, seen on Thursday, Sept. 6, 2012 in Novato, Calif., has written a book, “Twenty Years Behind Bars," about his experiences as a longtime bartender and nightclub owner in Marin County. (Frankie Frost/Marin Independent Journal)

I don’t remember when it started. Three weeks ago? Four? Five? It doesn’t really matter. All I know is I was sitting at the intersection near my house yet again.

The man, whom I took to be homeless, was walking unbelievably slowly across the intersection, stopping traffic different directions. He clutched the dirty blanket over his head like a giant stained monk’s cowl. The driver to my right honked the horn. That honk only made the man move more slowly. I had been through this many times before and I will admit it, it was beginning to annoy me.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world,” Gandhi once said. And to that end I had tried different routes and even different times only to find myself right back at that intersection, waiting for that man to cross ever more slowly. I will even admit that I had also cut out in my car once, when he wasn’t quite halfway across the intersection, and as a result, found myself stuck in the middle of the intersection blocking traffic, the anger of waiting cars now directed at me instead.

As a bartender, I try to pump myself up for work, either with music or coffee, and sometimes with both. I know people go to bars to have fun and if the bartender isn’t at least open to the fun then it can be a long night indeed. So, I try to be as open as possible. And these encounters were starting to influence me.

When I got to work and the older woman in the ridiculous supermodel haircut sat down I wasn’t at my best. In my many years spending my entire workweek in trendy hotspots, I have noticed a few things. One is that high fashion on regular people in the light of day often looks ridiculous. Styles and trends that look edgy-good on the most gorgeous supermodel really only amplify said differences on the rest of us. But I digress.

In the space of our 20-minute encounter she asked for at least six sauces for her $12 appetizer. She knocked over two glasses of wine, after three or four tastes each time to choose a wine, the interaction was starting to get to me. Even if she tipped 15 percent on her $20 tab, I was looking at $3.50, give or take. The hardest $3.50 I was ever going to make, and that was “if” she tipped 15 percent, something that was looking less and less likely with every extra sauce. When you put all your happiness into the hands of others, they rarely deliver.

I must have confided some of my frustration to my co-worker in the back. When you apply pressure to something, that pressure seeks to escape, just ask any physicist. Or psychologist for that matter.

“She’s just lonely,” my co-worker said. “She’s probably losing control over the things in her life that really matter and she’s trying to get control over what she has left.”

Never mind the physicists and the psychologists, sometimes it takes a restaurant employee to really put things in perspective.

From then on, instead of getting annoyed, I decided to just be as kind as possible. Not in the hopes that it would make her do anything differently, but because it made me feel better.

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She, didn’t notice. But I noticed that I felt better. When she ultimately left me 10 percent, I just smiled and thanked her for coming.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“Not at all,” I said, really meaning it

I realized at that moment that I wasn’t mad at her, or annoyed or even irritated. Instead I was profoundly sad for her, sad that the only thing she felt could really control was the food server at her local restaurant.

When I drove home later that day. I encountered the homeless man at the same intersection yet again. This time I simply waited patiently. In fact, I waved him out onto the street. He looked at me peculiarly and then wandered across at the same pace as always. This time it didn’t bother me at all.

It was in that moment that I realized what Gandhi’s words really mean. Seeking change in others by changing your own actions may, or may not, prove fruitful. Changing your own reactions, however, will always yield remarkable success, if only for yourself.

Jeff Burkhart is the author of “Twenty Years Behind Bars: The Spirited Adventures of a Real Bartender” and an award-winning bartender at a local restaurant. Follow him at jeffburkhart.net and contact him at jeffb@thebarflyonline.com.

About the Author

Jeff Burkhart is the author of “Twenty Years Behind Bars: The Spirited Adventures of a Real Bartender” and an award-winning bartender at a local restaurant. Reach the author at jeffb@thebarflyonline.com
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